


Wildfire, Ice-Fire

by journeycat



Category: PIERCE Tamora - Works, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: F/M, Incest, Mother-Son Relationship, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-10
Updated: 2011-07-10
Packaged: 2017-10-21 06:08:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/221794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/journeycat/pseuds/journeycat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kalasin never expected to face such twisted demons in Carthak.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wildfire, Ice-Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Malorie's Peak Prompt #8: Strange Bedfellows

There was something vile pervading Carthak.

Kalasin had felt it the moment she stopped onto its piers that day that seemed so long ago, when she forsook her Tortallan heritage to adopt this exotic one. At first, she thought it was her and the feelings the Carthaki people had for her, but she was relieved to see they loved her—they truly did, and she was surprised to realize she loved them back. No, it was not them, and it was not her. Kaddar—well, it wasn't him, not truly, but he was cloaked in the very same toxicity. He was kind, and handsome, and she had (once) thought she could come to love him. But that was _before_.

It was when she met her future mother-in-law that she knew what it was. Too beautiful, too sharp; there was something hard about Fazia that was as cruel as iced fire. Her long dark eyes stared at her over the shimmering veil, her black hair sparkled with real gold dust, and her garb was richer than what Kally had ever worn back home. _She's tough because she has to be_ , she had thought. _She was Ozorne's sister, by the Goddess, she had no choice_.

"Princess," Kally said, and curtsied as low as she could.

The heavy jewels on her hands glittered coldly as those long, slim fingers settled around Kaddar's shoulders; it was a possessive gesture. She stood taller than both of them.

"Princess," Fazia returned, distant and cool.

Was it really over a year ago? It hadn't been a terrible year and a half. Fazia's clear dislike was unfounded, but Kaddar didn't mind the "strange, uncultured" things she did, like ride horses and start schools. In fact, he seemed to enjoy them, and there was something tender on his face when he called her his _wildfire wife_. Something about that always made her smile at him. _I can definitely love him_ , she had thought.

And then the Hag came.

She turned a gorgeous day into something terrible, and Kally should have listened to George Cooper when he warned her, _Don't listen to the Graveyard Hag_. But if she hadn't—she would still be living in her own little ignorant bubble. Was that really so much better?

"You're pregnant," Zaimid had told her, eyes shining. "You aren't ill at all—you're pregnant. Kaddar will be beside himself when he finds out."

Kally wept. She felt like such a silly girl, but she was carrying a baby. She was carrying a possible heir, but more importantly, she was carrying her own child.

She thanked Zaimid, who smiled so sweetly at her, and left. She was too excited to keep this news to herself, so she headed for the stables. Kaddar was always at this time of day.

"He's in his chambers."

Kally jumped and pivoted. There was an old woman in a corridor niche, shrouded in shadows. She wore an eyepatch over one eye, and a rat perched on her stooped shoulder with eyes that gleamed in the dark. _A slave woman?_ she wondered before she realized, _No, the Graveyard Hag._

"What?" she said stupidly.

"The Emperor," she repeated. "He's in his chambers." She tilted her head, a peculiar smile on her face. It was almost sad. "You're not very bright, are you?"

Before Kally could reply, the goddess melted into the shadows. When she reached into them, her hand met only wall.

She continued on her way, but the joy had been sucked out of her. Gods did not show up just to redirect someone who was just happening to go the wrong way; this meant something. The Hag had a plan.

 _Don't listen to the Graveyard Hag_ , George had warned her. _But if you do, remember: she plays a dangerous game, and she's not afraid to cheat._

She headed for Kaddar's chambers.

The first thing she noticed was that there were no guards in the corridor. Kaddar did not lightly dismiss them. Why was he even in his chambers? He never was there during the day, when he had so many other important duties to which to attend.

The second thing she noticed was the sounds. Murmurs, in a woman's voice—in his chambers. Kally crept close to his cracked door, listening. She could not make out the words, but she could recognize the tones. Urgent, encouraging, begging. _Oh, gods_ , she thought, suddenly hurting—and suddenly furious. _He's got a mistress. He's got a damn_ mistress _._

Impulsively, she shoved the door, hard. It banged against the wall and Kally opened her mouth to—well, to say _something_ —but words never came, though her mouth continued to hang open.

Fazia reacted first. She shrieked as she pushed Kaddar off her and pulled the sheets up to cover her bare breasts. Her hair tumbled around her, and she would have been beautiful if not for the look of hate and fury on her face. Kaddar reacted not at all: he could only stare at her with stricken eyes, brown shoulders still bearing the angry welts of her nails, while the color drained from his face. _Something vile is in Carthak._

"Kally," he whispered.

She ran.

She still couldn't forget it, even now. The scene was branded into her mind. Whatever the Hag's intentions, she succeeded in destroying her marriage and her happiness. She had come to Carthak prepared to clash with her mother-in-law—but not about this. And if it was only this, Kally could and would work around it, work to destroy Fazia and her manipulations and her jeweled hands that held Kaddar—her _son_ —too close, too close.

There was so much more at stake than just her, though. She had to be careful, because Fazia was many things but she was nothing if not powerful. But there was no denying _that Fazia had to go_ , and if Kaddar wouldn't do it, well—she was cultured Conté, yes, but she was also cunning Saren.

Binur made a noise, and Kally resumed her rocking. The wet nurse smiled at her and went back to her sewing. _So much more at stake_ , she thought, aching, and pulled him closer.


End file.
